Sonnets originally published in Mojave He[art]
The truth is pictures on the internet,
draconian digits I should forget,
a fuzzy innocence, apricot wet.
Decade, by face, erased with loss, regret.
A smeared rainbow party tenacity,
what shame heart shades should hide you see
in glossy cinnamon veracity.
A teeny heart inside flesh post 30.
The proof is petulance, a pout teenage,
a xxx teaser on and offstage,
a feral frolic, lollipop, uncaged.
A bubblegum ebullience doesn’t age.
Can’t stretch the math to make me a nymphette.
Atop a lap, everyone forgets.
A Mermaid Abandoning The Titanic
who loved you three of four nights, your lean,
illuminated by ten thousand lights,
towards me, precariously. I preen,
guardrail, against your walnut vest, a sight
I fight ice, current, chase this ship toward
three nights of April bliss, before at last
a kiss I do not feel just see — hard
a starboard, her lips a vivisection halves
humanity from me. All animal
what swims betrayed to iceberg eyes, white beard,
refracted gold upon a chest, controls
a crash until, like love, I disappear.
Three nights I was your mistress in the sea.
Fourth night is drowning. I won’t stay to see.
sonnets originally published in Moonchild Magazine
Kristin Garth is a Pushcart, Best of the Net & Rhysling nominated sonnet stalker. Her sonnets have stalked journals like Glass, Yes, Five:2:One, Luna Luna and more. She is the author of seventeen books of poetry including Pink Plastic House (Maverick Duck Press), Crow Carriage (The Hedgehog Poetry Press), Flutter: Southern Gothic Fever Dream (TwistiT Press), The Meadow (APEP Publications) and Golden Ticket forthcoming from Roaring Junior Press. She is the founder of Pink Plastic House a tiny journal and co-founder of Performance Anxiety, an online poetry reading series. Follow her on Twitter: (@lolaandjolie) and her website kristingarth.com